"Everybody knows a ghost story or two," I said, smiling. "If we didn't have ghost stories, we wouldn't need campfires. If we didn't have campfires, we wouldn't need marshmallows. If we didn't have marshmallows, the whole economy would collapse."
Jake didn't smile. "How come you didn't tell me that? How come you told me you was a researcher?"
"Minor detail. Besides, it didn't seem important."
"You came here knowin' that somethin' unusual was gonna happen in Chambers Bay, didn't ya?"
"Call it a hunch. But when I read the news reports about the animals, it more or less confirmed some suspicions."
"Guess in a way we can be thankful for the fog," Jake mused, "otherwise this old town would be crawlin' with reporters and officials breathin' down our backs, tellin' us what to do."
"For the most part, I figure the world's pretty much unaware of what's going on here."
"How about it? You got it figured out yet?" He was like a big kid looking for an easy answer to a complicated puzzle.
"Well, at this point, we haven't got very much, just a bunch of seemingly related bits and pieces that don't add up to very much. A person would have to have one incredible imagination to gather all of this into something meaningful."
"Try me," Jake drawled.
"Well, I've already told you that the things going on in Chambers Bay are similar to incidents that happened in other places over the last several years.
"Jake was nodding. "Go on."
"There are any number of possibilities at this point. One, of course, is that none of these incidents are related, that they're really nothing more than a bizarre set of coincidences. At the other end of the spectrum is the possibility that we've been plunged into some prehistoric nightmare that has to do with things we'll never be able to explain."
"Which way ya leanin'?"
"First you've got to promise you won't throw me out of the truck."
Jake grunted.
"I think we've got something going on here that transcends everything that's logical, defies the imagination and makes people real, real uncomfortable."
The lawman took one last drag on his cigar, rolled down the window and flipped it out into the fog. "I got one more question."
"Shoot."
"What's goin' on between you and Brenda Cashman?"
I started to laugh, then decided against it. I had a sneaking suspicion it was not a laughing matter for Jake Madden. "Take my word for it. It's strictly business."
The big man's expression didn't change all that much. And maybe it was nothing more than my imagination, but it did seem that there was a little less tenseness to the set of his jaw. If there was a comment in the offing, it never materialized. The emergency channel was suddenly a storm of static. Kendall's voice boomed in loud and clear.
The men of the RCMP had called another meeting. This one had a decidedly different flavor than the previous one. For one thing, most of the women and children were now secure in an area that could be easily patrolled. Secondly, we had made it through the night without — as far as anyone knew any further casualties. Thirdly, a dimension of fatigue was beginning to surface. Most of the men were working with less than four hours of sleep. As Kendall was stepping back up on the riser, those same men sat dejectedly in a semicircle of folding chairs.
Sergeant Kendall had rejuvenated the area map used in the first briefing session. It was taped to the wall again.
By this point, much of the spring had gone out of Kendall's step. He paced back and forth in front of his maps, sporting a two day stubble and looking for all the world more like a fugitive than an officer of the RCMP.
"Okay," he began hesitantly, "we made it through the night without any further incidents. We made it because we were organized, we were careful, and we followed our plan. It's important that everybody keep that in mind, because that's going to be the thing that gets us through this whole nightmare."
As it turned out, Kendall was just getting warmed up. From there he went on to inform us another sweep was being organized. "We'll follow the same routine we used in our first sweep, the only exception being that Constable Hawkins will head up the team coming in from the western boundary."
One or two of the men still had enough energy to mumble minor protests.
"We'll launch the sweep at exactly ten o'clock, and we'll rendezvous at the clearing where we found Percy Kramer at twelve noon. Bring any kind of weapon you feel comfortable with, but remember, be darn certain you know how to use it and what you're firing at. Be especially aware of where the other members of your sweep team are at all times. We've got our hands full with that creature. We don't need to be shootin' at each other."
Kendall's plan had the ring of organization about it, but one discouraging fact kept bubbling to the forefront of my thoughts. I knew it had to be on the minds of the men as well. The question had already been asked. Namely, what were we going to do even if we did find the creature? So far, bullets were accomplishing little more than keeping it awake.
Kendall must have known what the men were thinking. "This time we'll use the portable radio gear, and we've added two more weapons to our arsenal. One is a portable ensnarement device, a trap blanket made of woven fiberglass and magnesium. The ensnarement net is encased in a large payload cartridge propelled by a T-47A. Both Officers Gregory and Hawkins are proficient with the device." Kendall was beginning to sound stiff and hopelessly military.
"How do we know that newfangled net of yours is gonna work any better than anything else we've tried?" one of the men groused.
"It'll stop a tank," Kendall responded confidently.
"So what?" another snarled. "What you aimin' to do with it after you've caught it?"
"Constable Gregory has also managed to round up four 731 tranquilizer guns. I've ordered that they be loaded with Selphon 3431 — enough to knock down anything that walks, crawled or exists on the face of the earth. Each of the groups will have one of the tranquilizer guns. It's as simple as we know how to make it. If you see the thing, open fire and keep firing until the man in your unit with the Selphon cartridge gets there. The minute you've got the beast on the ground, have your radio man get in touch with Officer Gregory; he'll get there with the T-47A and get the trap blanket over the thing. As soon as the trap blanket is in place, anchor it, cage it, kill it — whatever's necessary to prevent any further loss of life. Any questions?"
This time the men were silent. No one had a better plan.
"All right," Kendall barked, his voice getting more hoarse by the minute, "step up here and I'll assign each of you to one of the four sweep teams. Then each of you will have till ten o'clock to check on your families and get yourselves ready. In the meantime, I've assigned Constable Hawkins and four other men to continue the patrol of the perimeter of the village."
It was a struggle, but I finally managed to heft my weary body out of the chair and went looking for B.C. It was her job to find out where I would be most likely to locate the Austin widow and young Kelto. Some things hadn't changed. I still wanted to talk to both of them.
Brenda was just walking through the door when the Kendall briefing began to break up. Despite the long night, there was still a twinkle in her eyes that made her look a whole lot better than the majority of Chambers Bay's walking wounded. She was sporting a smudge on one cheek and her hair was mussed, but other than that she looked surprisingly fresh. For the most part, it was the moon child element that was still with us.
"Any luck? Locate either of them?"
B.C. shook her head. "Nothing! Not a trace. It's like they just disappeared. I've checked every place in the village that housed people last night."